


Unconditional Acceptance

by Just_Another_Day



Series: Unconditional Acceptance [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Drama, Family Drama, Feelings, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 16:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16706056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: To be honest, Damen had been more focused on the squirming seven-month-old boy that had been thrust into his arms than on the explanations.





	Unconditional Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anonymous tumblr [prompt](https://justanotherdaylikeanyother.tumblr.com/post/180377839857/for-the-prompts-id-really-love-to-see-damen-and).

Though he had barely registered it at the time, looking back, Damen remembered hearing Halvik saying, "We understand you are more in need of boy children than our clan. The child is no longer so reliant on his mother, and he was robust enough to travel. Time he goes to his father, I think." 

The Vaskians would be keeping for themselves the two strong girls Damen had 'gifted' to them, Halvik had insisted. But here, if King Damianos and his lover wished, was a child who might solve the hotly debated topic of how Vere and Akielos could hope to permanently combine their two kingdoms through a union that could bear no fruit of its own. 

There had been a great deal more discussion of the matter, but to be honest, Damen had been more focused on the squirming seven-month-old boy that had been thrust into his arms than on the explanations. This was his _son_. He'd thought that was a possibility once before, of course. But since then there had been Laurent, so it had seemed an unlikely thing to happen.

That day, Laurent, stony-faced, had declared, "Yes. We will raise the child." 

Most of the gathered people would have taken one look at him and concluded that it didn't seem to matter to him what happened either way with the child, except perhaps as a matter of the convenience of having a looming political problem for the future suddenly solved. But Damen wasn't just anyone, so he could look beyond the walls. What he saw in Laurent's face wasn't uncaring, but tightly shielded fear. Knowing Laurent, Damen imagined that Laurent suspected the Vaskians might, if they saw any kind of attachment or yearning in Laurent's eyes, think to leverage Damen's child, knowing that Laurent would give anything. It was, thankfully, a specifically Veretian way of thinking, and the Vaskians were generally far too straight-forward to bother with such games. If they wanted a bribe, they would simply have said so plainly and upfront. Since the topic hadn't been raised, it was clear to Damen that they'd only intended the boy as a gift – a sign of ongoing peace and friendship – not a power play or a trade.

Once the Vaskians eventually left them alone for the evening, hours after the child had first been delivered into Damen's arms, the change in Laurent had been instantaneous. Laurent had scooped the boy from Damen's arms and cuddled him to his own chest, a smile playing at his lips. 

"There can be no doubt that he's your son. He looks just like you," Laurent said as he peered intently down at the slumbering boy, who had fallen asleep some time ago when the evening had dragged on too late. Laurent didn't seem to mind that he was sleeping now that they had the opportunity to get properly acquainted. And why should he? There would be more than enough time for the rest. Years' worth, in fact.

" _Our_ son," Damen corrected.

Damen didn't think he'd imagined the slight tightening of Laurent's arms. Not enough to discomfort or wake the boy, of course, but still enough to signal the strength of his reaction to that idea.

"Halvik told me the boy's mother named him Vasili. Apt for a future King. To have named him that, I imagine the mother must have known from practically the moment she discovered he wasn't a girl that she would give him up to you." Laurent pressed his cheek gently against the still-sparse curls at the top of the boy's head. "I can't imagine making such a decision myself, but I can't say I'm not thankful for it."

"Prince Vasili," Damen had pronounced. 

Damen had expected that it would be quite the task to convince the Veretian side of the alliance to accept an heir who was both illegitimate and had no Veretian blood in his veins. But he'd thought that Laurent's clear affection for the child would probably help sell it to them. The Veretian people loved King Laurent, and it was obvious King Laurent loved Prince Vasili already, within hours (minutes, seconds) of meeting him. The Veretian people would find it difficult to ignore that, surely. They would eventually acknowledge the boy as their rightful future King.

Damen had, back then, thought that would be the largest difficulty brought on by the unexpected arrival of their son. Nearly ten years later, he could only reflect on how naïve he'd been.

He knew the moment he saw Nikandros that it was going to be another frustrating day.

"Exalted. You're needed to deal with a pressing issue," Nikandros announced himself grimly.

Damen didn't even have to ask what had brought Nikandros to him unannounced. There were only two sources that ever brought that particular beleaguered expression to Nikandros's face, and Damen knew for a fact that Laurent had done nothing particular today that Nikandros might be overly tempted to complain about. Other than his usual 'crime' of existing, obviously.

"What's he done this time?" 

"The servants found a note," Nikandros said, "saying that he's off to explore, that he'll be back in no more than two days, and not to worry. By all accounts, he at least retrieved enough supplies from the kitchens to take care of himself until he's found, but you know how much trouble he's capable of getting into in the interim."

Damen sighed. Exploring _where_? That was the question. So far there had been no real pattern to where Vasili tended to go on those occasions when he made his escape from both his guards and his parents. The whole region was littered with ruins from centuries of clashes between Akielos and Vere, not to mention a range of other landmarks that a ten-year-old boy might find of interest. He could be tramping about in any one of those places. Without more information to go on, They were probably going to have to mobilise half the army to fan out and look for him.

"He's the heir to a throne, and still a child," Damen said. "He has to learn that he can't just keep running off alone and putting himself in danger like this."

"Yes, I can't _imagine_ where he might have gotten the idea that royalty can run off at a moment's notice so that they can have ridiculous adventures without their designated guards 'getting in the way'," Nikandros said wryly. "Or, for that matter, how he could have learned of the paths he might take to bypass the guards and make it out of the palace unseen."

Defensively, Damen claimed, "Come on, that's obviously different. Laurent and I are perfectly capable of protecting ourselves, and each other. But Vasili... He should know better. How can he expect to fare well if he encounters kidnappers or bandits? He's still only ten years old. Not even old enough to even wield more than a wooden sword when he trains."

"You should tell that to Lazar," Nikandros suggested. "He's been secretly sparring with Vasili using real blades, though admittedly dulled. The prince is actually quite good."

"And you're only telling me this _now_?" Damen asked, appalled. "What were you thinking, not stopping it? You know what can happen when a boy faces a real sword too young." His fingers twitched, itching to react instinctively for the first scar Kastor had ever bestowed on him.

"I've been keeping an eye on them to make sure the Prince is safe, obviously. Lazar is well aware that I'm watching him and acts accordingly careful. Lazar is equally aware of the painful fate that would await him if your husband found out he was responsible for anything worse than a few necessary training-related bruises on your son. And," Nikandros paused meaningfully, then said, "Lazar is not Kastor." It was rare that Nikandros gave any Veretian even that much credit, at least aloud. "Besides, he's doing it with King Laurent's permission, so there isn't much I could do to stop it, other than report it to you. And I learned long ago to just stay out of your marital issues if I valued what was left of my sanity."

"So the guards can't keep track of my son, and some among them apparently actively put him in danger even when they are watching him. The kitchen staff is apparently handing out days' worth of food to the boy either without questioning why he would need it or knowing exactly why and going along with it anyway. My primary advisor isn't telling me pertinent information because he's scared of my husband –"

"I'm not _scared_ of him," Nikandros grumbled.

"– And my husband is sanctioning potentially dangerous behaviour for our son without thinking it merits so much as a mention to me. Tell me, when exactly did I completely lose control of my own palace?" Damen asked.

"Probably before the first stone of that palace was even settled into place," Nikandros said. 

All right, Damen thought, that was probably true to a point, but it was cruel of him to actually _say_ it.

"Does Laurent know Vasili is missing yet?" Damen asked.

"I imagine his own people are telling him as we speak," Nikandros said.

Damen set out to find Laurent. He waved Nikandros off when he offered to accompany him. He was pretty certain that Nikandros had been relieved for the out.

"Relax," was the first word out of Laurent's mouth when he saw Damen's frown as Damen approached him. "I don't think he's gone far. I daresay he was simply interested in seeing the battlefield at Marlas. The servants apparently found an account of the battle on the table beside his bed. Hardly the nicest bedtime reading, but I suppose we can't fault him for being curious, considering."

Fault Vasili? No. Fault themselves? That was a little more up for debate.

They'd already told Vasili of the bad blood in the history of Vere and Akielos years ago, of course. How could they not have done so when there was still enough prejudice around that he would only have been confused if they'd glossed over it entirely? He would certainly need to know all about it one day anyway. But although Vasili knew the broad strokes of Akielos and Vere fighting against each other over the years, including at Marlas, they'd left certain details out of the retelling, intending to revisit those things when he was older. Apparently, they'd run out of time. Damen would be willing to wager the entire royal coffers that whatever account of the battle Vasili had been reading hadn't similarly omitted the more challenging details.

They held off on sending out hordes of soldiers to conduct a region-wide search, instead picking out a smaller group of guards to accompany Damen and Laurent to a painfully familiar spot.

They saw Vasili's pony first, tied off to a tree and grazing happily enough on the grass at her feet. There was a pack strapped to her back, which Damen assumed was full of the supplies that Vasili had deemed necessary for this little excursion. At least he had _that_ much common sense.

Vasili himself proved a little more elusive, but eventually Damen spotted him stretched out in the middle of an overgrown field of flowers. The boy startled when he heard his name called, sitting up abruptly. There was a daisy stuck in his errant curls. It made him look even younger than his ten years, somehow. Too young to be anywhere near this place, with all its memories.

"You didn't have to come. I told you I'd come back on my own soon enough," Vasili complained.

"If you think up to three days out on your own is 'soon enough', I'm afraid our definitions are very different. Besides, it's probably going to rain tonight," Laurent pointed out. "Did you even pack a tent?"

Vasili kicked sullenly at a budless stalk near his feet, answer enough in itself. Of course he would be frustrated to have his lack of sufficient forward-planning pointed out. He didn't need a biological connection to take after Laurent in some ways.

"Anyway, prepared or not, you can't just leave a note and run off for days on end," Damen said.

Laurent met Damen's eyes and shook his head, indicating for Damen to leave off on the scolding for now. To let Laurent be the one to deal with this. 

"You could have just told us if you wanted to come here," Laurent told Vasili. "We would have brought you and showed you around. You didn't need to run off."

Vasili gave Laurent a long look. "I wasn't running away. I just didn't want to make you have to come back here."

"I've voluntarily come here many times over the past decade or so," said Laurent. "And never for a better reason than because my son wanted me to show it to him. You don't need to worry about me."

"But your father died here."

"Yes. A lot of men did," Laurent admitted.

"And Uncle Auguste?"

Auguste had been a far too integral to Laurent's life for him to even consider not sharing with Vasili his fond remembrances of his time with his beloved older brother. Vasili had seen the portraits and Auguste's statue as well. And he'd certainly heard other people speak of the Golden Prince, and quickly learned how revered Auguste had been by many of the Veretian people in general, especially those men who'd ever served under Auguste. There had even been a short period when Vasili had been nearly obsessed with measuring up to the way people talked of the previous firstborn heir of Vere, before Laurent had stepped in and put an end to it. Laurent – who understood all too well what it was like to idolise a dead man and to have everyone constantly suggesting that he was failing to live up to Auguste's 'perfect' example – had made it very clear that it shouldn't be a competition. That Vasili was different than Auguste had been in many ways, but that didn't mean he was at all inferior to him. Laurent had even promised that anyone who thought otherwise would soon regret saying so. And though Damen was fairly certain Vasili wasn't aware of it, Laurent had indeed followed through on that promise. People knew these days to watch what they said whenever Vasili's name was in their mouths, especially if the boy himself was within earshot.

"Yes. My brother died here as well," Laurent said. Damen couldn't help but notice that his voice was slightly strained as he said it. "I won't say it wasn't difficult, but I've come to terms with it enough that I can come here freely now. And enough that I can talk about it with you, if you'd like. I'm sorry I didn't do so sooner."

"I don't think talking's going to fix anything anyway. The Veretian people are never going to accept me on their throne, are they? Not when my father killed their Prince with his own hands," Vasili said.

Damen felt the words, and the flat way in which they were delivered, like a knife to the gut.

Laurent held a hand up in Damen's direction to silence him in case he thought to speak. As if he could have found his tongue again so easily. "Of course they'll accept you. They already have," Laurent reassured Vasili. "Vere and Akielos both love their Crown Prince."

It was true. The shared adoration of their young Prince had done nearly as much to fully unite their nations as all of Laurent and Damen's targeted efforts combined. The Vaskians seemed to have a soft spot for Vasili as well, as they still distantly considered him to be one of their own. Even Patras seemed desperate to marry off one of the royal daughters to the boy, age be damned. Though there might have been some brief uncertainty initially, there was really no question any longer that Vasili would, when the time came, ascend to his kingship more or less uncontested, and among much fanfare and celebration from Veretians and Akielons alike.

"But… how can _you_ accept me, knowing what my father did to your brother?" Vasili asked Laurent. 

Damen desperately wanted to say something that might help ease his son's worries, but he knew it would only sound like a self-serving justification if it came from him. It had to be Laurent.

Laurent reached out to Vasili. He didn't pull him close into a hug, as he would have if his only intention had been to comfort. Instead, he clapped both palms on top of Vasili's shoulders, the gesture of one man to another.

"I'm probably being too kind about my own character when I say this, but I'd like to think I wouldn't blame a child who wasn't even born until years later for a family member's trespasses against me," Laurent said. "And I don't still blame your father himself for what happened back then, anyway. You must realise our marriage isn't just a political match."

"Yes," Vasili acknowledged gruffly. "You two wouldn't be so gross all the time otherwise, I guess."

Damen bit down on a rather inappropriate laugh. 

"We've both had to forgive each other for many things," Laurent acknowledged. "You might start to hear of them from time to time, now that you're getting older. Just remember that we have long since reached the point that we decided to move together towards something much better. And you, Vasili, are the absolute best part of the life we've made. That's not something you should ever need to question."

Vasili looked past Laurent, for the first time allowing his attention to turn back to Damen. Damen nodded his agreement encouragingly.

"Now, let's go home, shall we?" Laurent suggested. "Before this rain pours down on us."

"Oh," Vasili said, disappointed, "but I wanted to see the rest of this place. The ruins especially. We're already here, aren't we? You could show me around, like you said."

"You think you should get a reward for running away and worrying us today?" Laurent said mildly.

Vasili huffed, but he didn't bother to continue arguing. He knew Laurent well enough to recognise when there was really no chance that Laurent would shift his stance on something.

"We can come back some other time," Damen offered to soften the blow as they walked back towards the horses and pony, and the men who had held back at a distance to give the Kings and Prince as much privacy as they could. When Laurent looked at him pointedly, Damen added sheepishly, "But only if you're good."

Quietly, as if hoping Laurent wouldn't be able to overhear, Vasili said to Damen, "I know he was an enemy of Akielos and all, but I don't think I would want to fight a man like Uncle Auguste in battle. Is that wrong, for a prince?"

"No. That's not wrong at all," Damen said firmly. Perhaps his own father would have disagreed with that sentiment, but Damen had managed to become his own man, with his own opinions on these things, over the years spent at Laurent's side. "I wouldn't want to fight him either, given the chance to do it all over. It seems you're a wiser prince at ten than I was at nineteen. That tells me that you'll make a great king."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But you'll have to stop running off without your guards if you plan to ever make it to the throne."

Vasili frowned slightly as he was handed the reins of his pony. "Really? Why? You run off without your guards all the time, and you manage to be King."

Damen was glad Nikandros wasn't there to hear that just then. He would never have let Damen live it down.


End file.
